Where Her Love Awaited Her
by Hermione Granger Malfoy
Summary: Please R/R! My second fic! I would really appreciate feedback ... try and guess who "he" is. Edited and revised. PG13 for some inappropriate content (just a little), a little swearing, and a little death. Slightly dark.


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Where Her Love Awaited Her

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[**Disclaimer**: JK Rowling owns it all. Except for the ideas.]

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[**A/N**: Please R/R! Whoever guesses right on who Hermione's "mystery husband" is will be mentioned in my next fic. (HINT: He's her age. I'm not mean enough to make Hermione marry Voldemort or Lucius Malfoy or something. HINT 2: It's someone who I often write about)]

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The music washed over Hermione like a wave. For a moment she was a child again, sitting on the piano bench next to her aunt, listening to her playing Hermione's favourite song. But then she awoke, and came to reality. No one was playing piano. It was simply one of those electric grand pianos which play by themselves, the ones where you simply insert a CD and it starts playing.

She felt her husband's cold arm around her waist and inwardly shuddered. "I see what you like about that foul Muggle instrument," he said coldly. "But I will not tolerate it. Throw it out."

"Of course," said Hermione.

He laughed. "Very well then. And while you are so extremely eager to do my bidding, you are due in my bedroom tonight. You do remember that, don't you?"

"Yes."

"I am glad that you agree. Not that you wouldn't otherwise." He looked sideways at her and lifted her chin. "My love, I have done well with you. I only hope this obedient behaviour continues."

Hermione cringed at _my love_. "Yes."

"I am having friends over for dinner. I trust you will do the necessary to obtain an appropriate dinner. And you are reminded, that if I do not find it to my tastes, you will be punished. Understood?" he said coldly.

"I understand," said Hermione dully. "When shall dinner begin?"

"In five minutes."

Hermione closed her eyes. Five minutes. She would have to urge the house elves on double speed and to retrieve certain special drugs that her husband used to subdue his guests to do his bidding.

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Later that night, on the bed, amidst all the groaning and thrusts, she thought again of how she had come to be amidst such a horrendous situation.

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Oh, Harry, she thought, _I did this for you._

In their seventh year, in exchange for saving Harry, she had agreed to be his wife. Hermione didn't know why she'd resorted to such a drastic solution. But Ron was already dead; she couldn't lose Harry too. She remembered when Harry had found out, a look of horror on his face. But there was nothing she nor he could do about it. Right before it had all happened, Harry had given her his pocketknife engraved with the words _Harry Potter_ to remember him by. "Just in case anything happens," he'd said, solemn. "What could possibly happen?" Hermione had said, happy, laughing. At that time everything had been right in her world. Unbeknownst to Harry, Hermione had secretly bewitched it to say _Harry and Hermione Potter_.

He had given her the knife that day by the sea. Hermione had always loved the sea. Forever going in and out, in and out, the tide passing back and forth upon the beach. Its deep moods, aqua green, dark blue, ruby red, alternating colors. Harry and Hermione had often talked about when they died, they would want to be buried in the sea. So that the waves could forever wash upon them.

But then Voldemort had had to come.

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed. She hadn't even be able to bid Harry goodbye. He'd died a year later, out of grief, and had been buried in the sea, like he wished. The very sea, in fact, that rumbled right next to Hermione's villa.

Suddenly her hair was yanked back roughly. "You are not paying attention, Hermione."

"I apologize. I am tired."

A rough movement, a scream. "You are not allowed to be tired. Do you need reminding?"

Silence.

"I said, bitch, do you need reminding?"

More silence.

Hermione was slammed into the wall and made no movement. She appeared as if dead. He bent over her and noticed a gash in her neck. He looked down at her hands and noticed she held a small pocketknife in her right hand. Looking down on it closely he noticed an inscription.

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Harry and Hermione Potter

With a scream of rage, he threw Hermione's lifeless corpse out the window. A sound of crashing glass sounded throughout the bedroom.

Hermione's body fell into the sea. Where she had always loved. Where she had always belonged. 

And where her love was awaiting her.

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End file.
